Fighting Fire with Fire
by Ashen Skies
Summary: [1x2x1] Gangs rule the Outlands, and shoot any OZ soldiers that enter their turf. The solution? Use ex-gangers, now OZ prisoners, to infiltrate them. What OZ doesn't know is that these five prisoners have plans of their own...
1. Kindling Flames

**Disclaimer:** No relation to Gundam Wing. No own Gundam Wing. No relation to anything Gundam. No own anything Gundam. No making profit from this. All of the above is very obvious, otherwise why would I be writing this? Disclaimers are a pain to write.

**Pairings:** 1x2, 3x4, 5xS, past 5xM (she's dead)

**Summary:** Gangs rule the Outlands, and shoot any OZ soldiers that enter their turf. The solution? Use ex-gangers, now OZ prisoners, to infiltrate them. What OZ doesn't know is that these five prisoners have something else in mind…

* * *

**Fighting Fire with Fire**

* * *

**Chapter One: Kindling Flames**

* * *

"Are you sure you have tried everything?"

"Yes, Commander. Even White Fang, our most elite force, has failed. Captain Zechs reports that he barely escaped with one tenth of his original fifty men force. He says that the gangs have burrowed deep and are familiar with the land and so have a huge advantage. The soldiers were ambushed or shot down from hidden positions not ten steps into the Outlands."

"In civilian clothing? Or the rags that the gangs like to call 'clothing'?"

"Even dressed as street gang members, sir. Captain Marquise says that it's the air of a soldier. He says it cannot be trained out, and apparently the gangs can recognize one of their own kind."

The Commander sighed, shaking his ginger-haired head. "And we cannot do anything major since it might just spark off a nuclear reaction, what with all those piles of contaminated junk festering there. And the whole point of trying to take over the Outlands is to salvage the very same junk." His forked eyebrows furrowed as he thought, dark blue eyes contemplating. "Absolutely no ideas, my dear Captain Une?"

The blonde sitting straight in the chair opposite the Commander shook her head. "No, I'm afraid not, Commander Kushrenada."

"Treize."

"Yes, Commander Kushrenada. If even White Fang fails…" she let the sentence trail off. There was no need to continue, anyway.

Then there came a knock at the door. "Come in," Treize called. The oak door swung open to reveal an aristocratic man with silver hair in a ponytail and an arm in a sling. His light blue eyes swept over the room's two occupants as he bowed slightly. "Commander Treize. Captain Une."

They nodded back. "Captain Zechs," Treize smiled warmly as the newcomer closed the door behind him and took a seat next to Une. "The lady here was just telling me about our latest failure in clearing the gangs out of the Outlands."

Zechs flushed. "I am sorry, Commander," he murmured. "But there is simply no way into the Outlands. The gangs have been there for so long they know every secret hideout, every passage, every entrance."

"Are we beaten, then?" Treize frowned.

"I… have a suggestion, Commander. Although it is highly unorthodox, and not very reliable."

Treize raised an eyebrow. "At this point, I am willing to try anything. Let's hear it, Captain."

"Even out of uniform, there is something about a soldier that gives them away, while on stakeout, we've seen gang rats entering and leaving the outlands without problems. I was thinking… fight fire with fire. We could send prison inmates in there, former ex-gang members. We could give them freedom if they manage to clear out the gangs for us, and the means to start a new life thrown in for good measure. As incentive. It would take a long time, longer than we planned, but it would be done, if they eliminate the gangs bit by bit."

He blinked under the two penetrating stares he was subjected to. "Uh, it was just a thought…"

"Actually, that is a brilliant idea," Treize breathed. "We'll need to find a way to make sure the people we send in can be controlled, but by the gods, it's possible!"

Une nodded. "It would be better if we sent the juveniles, and a small group at that. They would be viewed as young, few in number, and so a lesser danger by the gangs, and thus have a better chance of surviving. We have enough prisoners to replace them if they die, anyway."

Treize frowned. "When you put it that way, it seems like we're sending them in to certain death."

"If we ask for volunteers, we'd be sure that we aren't forcing them to die. It would be their own choice. If they volunteer but cannot handle it, it's their problem."

Treize raised an eyebrow. "And when you put it _that_ way…" He sighed, then gave his two Captains a half-smile. "Both of you see to it. Volunteers, remember. Once they've been chosen, get them to wash up and bring them to me. Tell them only their mission, not why they're doing it."

The Captains nodded and stood. "Right away, sir."

* * *

They not only did not gather in straight rows, but slouched and fidgeted and talked among themselves. Captain Une's eyebrow twitched.

"ATTENTION!"

Her voice boomed throughout the High Security Juvenile Delinquent Centre and froze all the young teens lounging in the courtyard where they had been forced to gather. They had heard of the female Captain and her two personalities, but hadn't really believed it. Seeing the mild-looking woman on the temporary platform suddenly transform into a smaller (and female) version of Satan changed their minds.

"Now. I am Captain Une. I am here because you are supposed to be the worst of the lot of juvenile lawbreakers we have, attempting daring escape attempts from your previous centres or committing a high crime. Looking at you, though, I wonder."

Uneasy, resentful murmurs rose. They did not like being looked down upon.

"I need a small group of ex-gang members, preferably six or seven of you. Ex-gang, mind. I need this group to infiltrate the Outlands and get rid of all the gangs, or at least the majority of them, or provide a way for us, OZ, to do so."

Silence.

"Well? All necessary equipment provided. Afterwards you get freedom and a clean slate, and a small sum of money to start your new and hopefully law-abiding lives with."

"Ya mus' be crazy, lady. The Outlands' turf o' the meanest gangs there is. No mercy. Six or seven don't cut it. We'll die."

Une's glare made the crowd flinch. "A small group to _infiltrate_ the Outlands, not to launch an attack. A small group will have a better chance of weaselling their way in."

"It's still suicide!"

"Not if you're smart enough. Not if you're good enough."

Again, silence after she spoke. Une waited, barely holding on to her patience and temper.

"What kinda equipment, lady?"

Une couldn't find the source of that drawl, but from the way the crowd shifted and murmured, she knew the owner of the lazy tenor was either someone they were scared of, respected, or didn't hear from often. "Any kind, within reason. Computers, guns, knives. If necessary, custom made to order."

That was tempting, she knew, but not tempting enough, apparently, since no one spoke or even looked at her for some time, hunching into themselves as if that would make them less noticeable to her.

"Do you know which gangs are in there?"

Again, she could not find the source of that clipped, slightly accented voice, which drew the same reaction from the crowd as the previous voice did. "Almost every gang has a part of the Outlands. Since we chased away or captured most of those on the city streets, they have retreated to the Outlands, which is a far bigger territory than they'll ever have in the city."

"What do you want the land for?"

Frustration built in her as, yet again, she couldn't pin the light, alto voice down. It seemed that _this_ one was also unexpected by the crowd. "You don't need to know that. Just do your job, no questions asked, and _we'll_ clean your slate and give you freedom if you manage, no questions asked either."

"Why not send your own soldiers?"

Une winced at the question, voiced in a flat low tenor monotone from somewhere in the crowd, which elicited another nervous response from the mass of people. She had been hoping this wouldn't come up. "We did. They were killed."

A few gasps, and the crowd was even more restless than before.

"White Fang?"

A cool, smooth tenor that yet _again_ came from nowhere and yet _again_ set the crowd off. What was the _matter_ with her? Or were they simply that good? "They… barely got out. Even Captain Zechs was injured."

"Suicide," declared another voice, and the teens agreed loudly.

"Not if you're smart enough. Not if you're good enough."

The drawl froze the crowd and Une, who had opened her mouth to yell them down. Then five figures seemed to slowly melt out of the crowd, until there were five young boys standing in between the podium Une was standing on and the rest of the crowd, with a good five metres of space on either side. She shut her mouth and looked at them.

The first one to her left was of Japanese origin, slim and lean. The deep blue eyes surprised her, though; the shade of blue even deeper and bluer than Treize's, and so well guarded that the only emotion in them was apathetic wariness. His lightly tanned golden skin hid pure muscle that she could barely make out, lending to the impression that he was thin and small, easy prey. She'd bet that people had paid dearly for making that mistake. His posture was straight but relaxed and alert, with a dangerous edge.

The second startled her. He was outright grinning, intriguing violet eyes sparking with mischief, heart-shaped face seemingly open and friendly. And was that a _braid_ of autumn-leaf-coloured hair? He must be either very foolish or very brave or very good at fighting to have dealt with all the trouble that it must have brought him. Maybe all three. He was slim, too, about the same height – i.e. rather short – as the previous boy, if he straightened from his slouch. Then she took a closer look and saw the manic gleeful glint underneath the mischief, and the sharp edge to that innocuous grin, and the subtle play of muscles underneath pale American skin. He was dangerous, just as much so as the first.

The third was tall and lanky, standing loosely at attention, and his hair just as weird as the second, a fall of dark brown bangs covering one eye. Latin origins, one of the European countries. His visible eye was green and empty. He looked like nothing would startle him, but perhaps the cold, cool air he exuded discouraged people from trying to. His entire demeanour suggested that he would kill without batting an eyelid, and have no trouble doing so.

The fourth startled her, again. He was as tall as the third's chin, as short as the first two, standing straight and relaxed. He had light golden-blond hair and clear blue-green eyes, pale skin, and a small slim frame. The sweet smile made him seem even more angelic. Une wondered what someone so young and innocent-looking was doing here. Then, learning from her previous mistakes, she looked closer. There was a steely glint of cold intelligence in those clear eyes, and a hard undercurrent to the smile. Yes, he hid strength, like the others before him.

The fifth was Chinese, obviously. Almond-shaped eyes that were large for his race, and black as his hair, tied in a small tight ponytail at the back of his neck. Muscles were more obvious this time, though still rather subtle, under tanned golden-brown skin. The way he stood still and stiff, holding himself high, told of previous training that advocated respect, dignity, integrity and honour, the traits of any respectable Oriental. What was so important, she wondered, that he could allow himself to be lowered to this level?

All this was observed in less than ten seconds, after which she nodded. "Introduce yourselves, starting from you." She pointed to the Chinese.

"I am Chang Wufei, Chinese, fifteen years of age, Dragon gang member for three years, prisoner for one." Ah, she had heard gossip of a proud juvenile refusing to cower and flinch, instead marching into the detention centre, head held high. He'd been the one to ask her about which gangs were in the Outlands.

"I'm fifteen, too, and have been in here for one and a half years. Formerly a member of the Sands, for two years. Oh, and I'm an Arab. My name's Quatre Winner." Une didn't let her surprise show at that last sentence, though inwardly she jumped. So this was the infamous Winner son, who'd murdered his rich and famous father and calmly turned himself in to the OZ police force, refusing to give any reason or excuse. He'd been the talk of the world for months, though no one really knew what he looked like, and his sisters hadn't talked either. He'd asked her about the reason OZ wanted the Outlands.

"Trowa Barton. Sixteen. Here for two years. Former mercenary from childhood until now. Latin." Well, didn't waste words, did he? Mercenary… there wasn't really any difference between that and a gang member, so she let it slide. He had been the one asking about White Fang, and also the one her soldiers had muttered uneasily about, the silent boy with that unnerving dead stare.

"Heya, all! Duo Maxwell, at your service. I may run and hide, but I never lie. That's my motto, and I stick to it, no exceptions! Unless I really see fit, o'course. American, if ya haven't realized by my accent, by now. Been in this shithole for, oh, slightly less than a month, prisoner for slightly less than a year, and I was in Hell's Demons ever since five. I'm fifteen now, only got caught 'cause we were ratted out. Sadly, the rat's dead, so I can't slaughter him, drink his blood and use the remains as deco."

That was met with horrified silence, and from the corner of her eye, Une saw a few of her soldiers blanch; the grin hadn't changed throughout his entire speech, the tone continuously cheerful. This was the one that had given many other institutions hell, always trying to escape and almost succeeding most times, with an attitude to boot. The two drawled sentences from before belonged to him.

"Heero Yuy, half-Japanese, fifteen years old. Previous member of the gang Zen for approximately eight years. Transferred to this institution with Maxwell twenty-eight days ago. Apprehended approximately ten months before that." Crisp, detailed, barely noticeable accent, a cold monotone. He'd been the one to ask her why she hadn't sent her soldiers to deal with the gangs.

She remembered him; he and Duo Maxwell had partnered up for their last escape attempt, which saw them one mile away in a forest before OZ caught them again, and that was only because one of their soldiers had stumbled upon them by accident. Even so, they had killed two and injured twenty-something men – with their _bare hands_ and a few _branches_ – before they were subdued by tear gas mixed with a strong tranquilizer. They had been transferred to the highest security juvenile prison OZ had immediately after that. Even now, the men still talked of them with awe and fear.

She raised an eyebrow. "Five of you? I asked for six or seven."

Duo laughed. "Lady, we're the cream of the crop. The best of the best. _Numero uno_, yanno? Ask the rest of the juvvies, they'll tell ya. The five of us probably equal to seven or eight of the group you imagined."

Une smirked slightly as a few heads in the crowd nodded. "You're probably right, Mr Maxwell. Very well. The rest of you, dismissed."

The crowd scattered, and Une stepped off the platform, standing in front of the five boys, who had moved closer together. She swept a glance over them. "If you can pull this off, we clear your records, and we'll probably offer you a job on the force, if you're interested. We'll also give you ten thousand credits each, which is enough to live for a year if you don't waste it. The job is simple: infiltrate the gangs and pick them off one by one. You don't have a time limit, though the sooner the better, of course."

"Preferably by?"

"Preferably by the end of next year. It's April, so you have more than one and a half years to do it. There are about two hundred gangs in the Outlands, big and small, totaling up to – this is very rough estimate based on guesswork, since all the radiation interferes with our equipment – totaling up to a thousand people. Those are pretty big odds, for five people, working at a snail's pace, no less."

To her surprise, smirks appeared on all their faces. "We won't be exactly working at a snail's pace, lady," Duo drawled. "Don't underestimate us."

"A few bullets in the wrong place and we could have a reaction equaling that to a nuclear bomb," snapped Une. "Don't underestimate the Outlands."

"Oh, we know very well what we're up against, Captain Une," Quatre chuckled. "We know why you don't dare to send a large force inside. We know how dangerous the gangs are. We know what we can do. And I'll say it again: don't underestimate _us_."

Une looked incredulously at the boys in front of her, and saw easy confidence in their faces. "You _are_ crazy."

Heero shook his head. "We will need every bit of those twenty months you give us, but it can be done, quite smoothly. We need your co-operation, though. You must not do anything unless we ask you to, and when we do, you must do it immediately. It is imperative that this is agreed to."

"We'll also take you up on that custom weapons offer, lady," Duo said easily. "Would be best if you still had our old stuff, of course…"

"As a matter of fact, we do. I will give them to you later, though some of it might be lost or worse for the wear. I ask again: are you five _sure_ about this? Are you committed?"

The five nodded, and murmured various versions of oaths and promises.

Une sighed. "Fair enough. I ask you not to try to escape while I escort you to the OZ headquarters. The Commander wants to see you."

Duo whistled. "Treize Kushrenada? This is big, then."

"Big, yes. But also because the Commander feels guilty for sending children into what he feels – and I somewhat agree – is certain death."

Five pairs of eyes flashed with insulted fury. "We can do it," Heero said with suppressed anger.

"We _will_ do it," Duo agreed, expression dark and feral.

Trowa nodded curtly, green eye suddenly filled with cold cruel determination.

"We have not been children for a long time," Quatre smiled mirthlessly.

"Don't insult us again, onna." Wufei's anger was plain at having his honour so blatantly insulted.

Une was extremely careful to conceal her smugness. There was no way they would back out now.

"Then follow me."

* * *

Well? [looks expectantly at readers] Was it okay? Interesting? Long-winded? Tell all in a review! [grins] Please?

**[Ashen Skies][One good turn gets most of the blankets]**


	2. Clash of Wills

**Disclaimer:** No relation to Gundam Wing. No own Gundam Wing. No relation to anything Gundam. No own anything Gundam. No making profit from this. All of the above is very obvious, otherwise why would I be writing this? Disclaimers are a pain to write.

**Pairings:** 1x2, 3x4, 5xS, past 5xM (she's dead)

**Summary:** Gangs rule the Outlands, and shoot any OZ soldiers that enter their turf. The solution? Use ex-gangers, now OZ prisoners, to infiltrate them. What OZ doesn't know is that these five prisoners have something else in mind...

* * *

**Fighting Fire with Fire **

* * *

**Chapter Two: Clash of Wills**

* * *

There was a knock on the door, and Treize and Zechs' head swivelled around to look at it. A voice floated into the conference room. "It's Une, sir. With the juveniles."

"Ah, good. Come in."

The door opened, and five boys quickly filed in, Une the last to enter, closing the door behind her. The boys spread out in a line on the other side of the long table where Treize sat. Une took her seat on one side of Treize, the other side taken by Zechs, and the adults turned to face the boys. There was a moment where they all stared at each other.

Then Treize coughed. "How rude of me. I am Treize Kushrenada, the Commander of OZ. You already know Captain Une, and this is Captain Zechs. Pleased to meet you."

"Pleased to meet you," Zechs agreed.

Duo's grin widened. "I'll bet you are, eh? Since we're your best hope of salvation and all."

Treize and Zechs blinked. Une was unmoved; she was already somewhat used to Duo Maxwell.

The Commander recovered quickly. "Something like that. Ah, Une has sent your information to us beforehand, so we already know your names and personal data. Oh, where are my manners? Please, sit."

The boys pulled out a chair each and sat in one fluid motion, like they had co-ordinated it beforehand. It was almost eerie, and Treize knew it for the united front it was. Just how well did they know each other? The warden had said that he hadn't noticed any extra interaction between any of them, other than the normal unavoidable contact. Only Yuy and Maxwell, perhaps, but they didn't go out of their way to acknowledge each other, either, simply providing back up that one time to one another when Maxwell was being hassled. It was only to be expected after that shared escape attempt, after all.

From the time they accepted the mission until now, there had been only one chance for them to talk – when they showered and changed from their jumpsuits to the standard loose track pants and t-shirt of OZ. So maybe in the Centre, they had talked during showers as well? Ah, this wasn't getting him anywhere.

"Alright. Let's get this meeting started, shall we? Une, please take notes. We are here to draw up a contract between OZ and you five. The basic offer is, you infiltrate the Outlands and help us find a way to get rid of the gangs. You either personally eliminate them, or find a way for us to do so – it's up to you. The maximum time you have to do this is thirty-two months, the remaining eight months in this year and two more years after that. Preferably, though, by the end of next year. Then we want you to quietly integrate yourselves into society, and not cause any trouble. If you do, we have the right to dole out the harshest punishments to you."

Duo grinned. "We'll integrate, yeah, but maybe not so quietly, eh? What if we wanna become hotshots or something? Movie stars?"

Treize looked vaguely amused. "Alright, integrate yourselves into society and lead law-abiding lives."

"That's fine. Okay, so let's talk about life after we complete this mission. You said you'd give us ten thousand each?" When Treize nodded, he continued, "We'll take that, but we also want you to provide a house for us, for until we can 'integrate ourselves into society'."

"Excuse me?" Zechs couldn't help saying incredulously.

"You're excused," Duo winked. "As I was saying, we want a house, big enough for five of us, and somewhere quiet but with easy access to the city. Won't it be easier to keep track of us if we live together? You don't have to post guards on five different houses. And it's better if you give us the house now, so we can use it as a base for planning. We can't exactly live in the Outlands and perform to our full capacity."

"And why is that?"

"We won't be able to sleep well, of course."

Treize stalled Zechs' protest with a raised hand. "Alright. We will find you a house to use during your mission and put it in Mr Yuy's name."

"And the house won't come out from the ten thousand."

"Agreed."

"And as we told the lady before, we also need full co-operation from you – when we need backup, you have to respond _immediately_. Otherwise you mustn't do _anything_ unless we ask you to. Got that?"

"In exchange for this level of trust we need full and regular updates on your plans."

Duo glanced at the others. Quatre nodded to him and turned to face Treize. "We cannot fully reveal everything lest there is a leak, but we will give you as much information as possible that will not endanger us and the mission. If we manage it, sometimes we might personally visit either one of you three for a full briefing, so we need you to acknowledge us if we ask for you."

Treize nodded. "I will inform my secretary."

Quatre smiled at Duo and sat back again, and the American continued. "A few of your soldiers know about this mission, as do the rest of the juvvies and the warden. We assume you can keep it under wraps?"

"The soldiers were all White Fang, and like the warden have been warned. The juvvies have no way to spread the information," Une reassured them.

"Good. Keep it that way. From now on, _all_ details pertaining to the mission is to be kept only to you three. The gangs are a tough crowd to work with, so we don't want any stupid mistakes."

"Understood."

"Good, now comes the more immediate part. Do you still have our old stuff?"

Zechs nodded. "I checked. What few personal belongings you have are in the vaults with the rest of the prisoners' stuff. The guns are gone, for obvious reasons, but the knives remain, on the basis that you can get a knife anywhere so it doesn't make a difference if we take the knives away or not."

"Clothes?"

"No, those are gone."

Duo made a face. "Just as we thought. Okay, first, we'll need custom-made clothes. I can draw the designs and give you the measurements within a few hours, and we'll need them at least a few days before the mission."

Une frowned. "Custom-made clothes? The unique designs some of you wore? That would make you recognizable."

"That's the point, lady," Duo grinned. "All of us are well known. Actually, we were kinda like legends, and still are. The clothes identify us, and that gives us an extra edge."

"What if they know that you were arrested?"

Duo shrugged with a smirk. "Arrested? Who, us? Any concrete proof of that? Why, we just lay low and let the OZ sods _think_ they got us, and we joined forces while in hiding. Now we're coming out again as a group."

The adults smiled at this. "Very good, Mr. Maxwell," Treize said appreciatively. "We will give you the clothes."

"Unfortunately, our trademarks are only _additions_ to normal outfits. We'll need to buy other clothes."

"I suppose you want us to give you an allowance to buy your clothes which doesn't come out of the ten thousand either?"

"You catch on fast."

Treize raised an eyebrow. "You're demanding an awful lot, Mr. Maxwell, you and your colleagues. Why, some people might even think you're more trouble than you're worth."

Duo grinned. It was not a nice grin. It was more of a baring of teeth than a grin. "Oh, we _know_ what we're worth to you, Mr. Commander, sir. And the trouble we give you is nothing compared to the benefits we bring."

The older man swept a measured gaze over the five and saw the challenge. He chose to surrender gracefully. "Alright. Is five hundred for each of you enough?"

"Should be. What we can't buy, we'll ask you to make. We'll give you the change when we're done."

Treize was surprised at that, but then he smiled. "Agreed. I'll tell our seamstresses to cater to your every whim."

Duo was about to retort to the slight sarcasm when they were startled by a knock on the door. "Commander Treize? I have the belongings you asked me to bring up."

"Good, good, come in." The man entered the room, and put the bags in his hands on the table as Treize instructed him to, before saluting his superiors and hurrying out again.

Duo laughed. "Just in time, too! I was just about to talk equipment, like the lady so nicely put it before."

They stood and each went over to the end of the table to take the bags with their names labeled on them. Each had various knives, daggers, and sheaths. Besides that, Heero had a compact laptop, Duo had some odd-looking contraptions, Trowa had some kind of coiled wire and throwing knives, Quatre had a pair of short swords, and Wufei had a katana.

"All the explosives stuff gone, too," Duo observed. "We'll need those replaced. I'll make a list of what we need. Oh, and we'd like some of our blades to be replaced with Gundanium."

"Are you mad? Do you know how expensive that is?"

"That's why we said _some_ of our blades, not all."

Treize laid a restraining hand on Une's arm. "As long as the amount of Gundanium you demand is within limits."

Duo nodded seriously. "Of course."

"Alright. Anything else?"

"We need something inconspicuous that nevertheless can allow us to easily communicate with each other on the field. Oh, and bug scanners, that sort of thing."

"We can do that. Our technology is the most advanced in this area."

Duo flashed a grin at Une. "That's good. We'll also need a new laptop for Heero. The latest, mind. And as small as possible."

"Why? The gangs don't exactly have anything you'll need to hack into."

"Ah, that's where you're wrong. Even on the streets each gang still had to have techies, people who used technology and computers to, oh, perhaps seal off the entrances to hideouts, or tweak cars into top-notch escape vehicles, or even steal money straight from banks. Needless to say, in the Outlands where gangs have free rein, they'll use even more tech to protect themselves. You're not the only ones who know how to use it, yanno."

Une's lips thinned as she pressed them together at the new information, but Treize nodded calmly. "A laptop. Fine."

Heero spoke for the first time. "I want to choose it myself. If necessary I will build it from scratch."

They blinked at him. "You can do that?" Zechs asked, surprised and a little warily.

"Hn."

"Yeah, Hee-chan can do it. Give him a few hours to catch up with all the advancements he missed in the past year and he'll be set!" Duo laughed, punching Heero in the shoulder. "Though I think he mainly wants to know about computers to talk shop. He tries to hide it, but it's common knowledge that he only knows how to build them, he can't do nothing more except the basics – email, typing, some small code-breaking on the side, yadda yadda. He just wants the latest so that it's more efficient. Ain't that right?"

The adults looked slightly relieved as Heero scowled. "Don't call me Hee-chan."

"Anything _else_?" Zechs interrupted testily.

"Oh, yes, guns and ammo, of course. Give us your best and we'll choose. Maybe we'll stick to our old gun models, maybe not. We'll see. We'll need to arrange a time to check out your armory."

Treize shook his head and smiled thinly. "You are certainly very demanding, Mr. Maxwell."

"Of course. We _need_ nothing but the best in this mission. While we might be confident we can do it, it's only if we have the right equipment. One wrong move, one faulty weapon, we fail. Simple as that."

"Fine. Is that all?"

Duo considered. "Yeah... oh, wait." He grinned outright. "We need a set of wheels. One that can go fast, take a lot of hits without shitting itself, and can make sharp turns."

Treize shot a stern look at his indignant Captains who were about to protest, yet again. "All our OZ cars fit that criteria. We'll let you choose one of them."

"Then we're all set. Give us some paper and pens and we'll list down all the stuff we need, right here, right now. The three of you can go to your office and draw up an agreement while we wait." Duo flashed them another grin. "Don't worry, we're not going anywhere."

Treize nodded. "We'll post a soldier outside the conference room door. If you need us, tell him and he'll come and fetch one of us."

Duo nodded. "We'll probably ask for one of you to bring us to the armory after we've done the lists, and maybe if we still have time we'll go see the cars."

"Fair enough. Zechs will come down when you ask. We'll meet up later in the evening to go over the contract and your list, make any corrections necessary. The paper and stationery are all in that cupboard over there. Oh, and I'll have dinner sent up at the same time."

"Dinner!" Duo cheered. "I hope it's going to be better than the ones at the Centre."

"The food here isn't half bad," Une assured him as she and the two men stood up, ready to leave. Treize paused as a thought occurred to him.

"You held a discussion in the showers, didn't you?"

Seven pairs of eyes blinked at him in surprise. Then the boys looked at each other and shrugged. "Yes," Quatre said simply.

"Just out of curiosity, did you know each other well before this?"

Duo shook his head. "We were mostly left alone for the most part, except in the beginning when some of the others thought they'd try and teach us 'our place'." Wufei snorted at that, while the rest of them smirked. "They gave _that_ up pretty quickly, and avoided us after that. We did the same. Heero helped me once fighting off some really big guys, but that was it for us."

"But I could have sworn you knew each other!" Une blurted out, uncharacteristically. "Even though you were scattered throughout the crowd, you used 'we' instead of 'I' and you were so sure of how good you all were, and you seemed comfortable with each other..." she trailed off at the bemused looks the boys were giving her and snapped her mouth shut. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Treize's raised eyebrow and Zech's surprised look.

"Er, I don't know about them, but like I said, we're legends. And if you're legend on the streets, it's usually because you're one of the best. The most deadly. So I kinda researched them," he said rather sheepishly, looking at the interested. "Gathered what info I could, went to the places they fought, checked out their opponents, stuff like that. I had lots of free time. Used all that to build up a pretty accurate, if I do say so myself, profile for each of them – fighting styles, motives and all that. We lived in different districts, but I managed to catch sight of all of them at least once, so I've seen them in their trademark clothes, too."

He paused, then flashed a grin at Heero. "Even saw you in action once, Hee-chan. Man, that was too cool. It was what led me to look for you and plan the most daring escape plan I'd ever done. Almost got out, too, if not for the cheating bastards." He scowled at the memory.

"Using tear gas and tranquillisers is hardly cheating when you're dealing with armed and dangerous opponents, Mr Maxwell," Une said amusedly.

"Armed? We only had some branches that Heero wrenched off a tree!" Duo exclaimed, looking put-out.

"Anything in your hands can be considered dangerous," Zechs said dryly. "Don't forget you killed two men. Did you know they had to call in my team, _and_ we had to use an ungodly amount of tranquillisers to affect you? You must have a huge resistance to drugs."

Duo winked at him while Heero shrugged, and the adults finally left the room. Immediately five heads turned and scanned the room. Duo grinned absent-mindedly as his eyes roved and said, "Sorry, guys, about that whole research thing. It was just a survival tactic at the time, but then I got really interested in you and started getting into the whole 'figuring out your psyches' part."

Finding no video recording devices, or anywhere such things could be hidden, they looked at each other and nodded, splitting up and beginning a survey of the room, checking every space for bugs listening in.

"Man, it feels good to finally get a chance to walk around and stretch a bit," Duo added as an afterthought. Heero gave him a quick smirk at that, his subtle way of telling Duo he understood why the braided boy had said that. It was an alibi as to why they would be moving around the room, in case there _were_ listening bugs around that would record their voices growing loud and soft in turns as they moved. Duo winked back.

Quatre laughed softly as they moved. "I did that too, actually, researched on all five of you. I got to know your styles quite well." He paused and waved a hand, pointing to the corner of the room he stood in front of. The others nodded and resumed their search.

Wufei picked up the thread of conversation next. "It was the same for me, though I did not quite anticipate the level of brainless noise you could actually be capable of, Maxwell."

"Hey!"

Trowa slid out from under the table and caught the others' attention, and pointed. "Ignore him," he said quietly as he moved a few steps away from the table. They acknowledged his find and turned back to their own searches.

"Yes, but some of us don't have the privilege of having a room far, far away from the menace, Barton. I'm a few doors down, and it's hard to ignore someone when you hear them _all the time_."

"I'm right next door."

Wufei nodded solemnly at Heero as the boys reconvened, Quatre with five pencils and paper in hand. "I feel for you, Yuy."

"I'm beginning to feel insulted, here," Duo huffed as the boys sat, Heero and Duo on one side of the table, at the end furthest from the bugged corner of the room, with Wufei, Trowa and Quatre on the other side.

"What, only now?"

"You'd better watch out, Wuffie ..." The paper was distributed, as were the pencils.

"It's Wu_fei_!" the Chinese boy growled as he wrote in neat, controlled writing, _They'll give us scanners programmed to skip their own bugs._

"You just have to learn to tune him out," Heero advised, smirking. "After a while you can tell when he's being serious and when he's just spouting rubbish." The others leaned in to see his reply in almost printed, regular writing, _I can re-programme it._

"Ooh, be glad I like you, Hee-chan." Duo stuck his tongue out at Heero. _No bugged clothes, but the car and house most likely will be,_ was his comment in scrawled writing. "As it is, I think I shall go and sit with Quatre instead." Heero yanked his braid as he tried to stand, causing him to yelp and fall backwards into Heero's lap. Wufei sighed, Quatre muffled a laughed, and Trowa's face managed to convey 'slightly amused'.

Duo squirmed around for a little bit before Heero's grip around his waist tightened and effectively trapped him. "Fine, keep me trapped," he huffed. Then he grinned. "If you can't beat 'em, join 'em!" He laid his head down on Heero's chest, snuggling into him, and grinned up at the slightly startled look on the Japanese boy's face. "You're comfy."

Quatre giggled and quickly began writing, as Trowa looked down at the blond with a minute smile, rare for him. Wufei groaned. "Did it occur to you that we just had our _second_ real conversation with each other? Isn't that a bit fast to pull a move on someone?" _Pay attention, Maxwell!_ the Chinese wrote and held the paper up with a small glare so that Duo could see it.

"Ever heard of love at first sight, Wuffers?" Duo shot back blithely. But then he relented, seeing the incredulous look on the Chinese teen's face. "Of course we're not in love. Yeah, I'm attracted to Hee-chan, but... I'm sure it'll grow into something more when we've had a chance to get to know each other better. Now, it's just..." he grinned at Heero and licked his lips with a suggestive raised eyebrow. "Friends with benefits. Like the golden couple over there."

"Duo..." Heero said warningly, as Wufei growled, "Don't even go there, Maxwell. Not in public."

"Aw, are you jealous?" Duo winked. Quatre then held up the paper he'd been writing on. In flowing, neat script, it said, _Pretending to be together would give us a reason to be a group, if some of the sceptics in the gangs ask why we, previously loners, decided to work together. It would also serve to deter others from attacking one of us, if we made it openly clear that they would have to deal with all five. It also lends more credit to the claim that we can work well together, if we were more intimate, and will ease people's minds – to normal people, our level of understanding without spending time with each other is unheard of._

"I'm straight, Maxwell. _Someone_ has to be," Wufei sighed as he read the note, keeping up the sidetracking banter, and began his reply. Duo and Quatre laughed at his quip, while Trowa and Heero looked amused.

"Alright, let's begin writing down what we'll need, individually, and then we'll work on the rest together," Heero said crisply. "Let's not waste time."

"Yes, master, right away," Duo pretended to simper. They got to work, and a while later Wufei pushed his note to the centre for all to read.

_Yuy and Maxwell can be a couple, as can you and Barton. I know you two pairs already feel something for each other. To the gangs, we can say we owe life debts. As for me, I can be blood brothers with Yuy and Barton. That will cover all of us. Winner's right, we can't let them know we're abnormally close. They'll question us and yes, feel uneasy. We should arouse as little suspicion and curiosity as possible. _They nodded when they read finished reading, and turned back to their work.

Duo's note was quickly scrawled and passed around. _We'll fake deeper affection for each other, and our teasing will include Wufei for good measure. If Treize, Zechs or Une asks, we were afraid to show our relationships in public before but we trust their intentions enough to be more open now. Let them think we let our guards down. They probably imagine, after listening to us from the bugs, that we were uncomfortable with being public and only relaxed when we were alone. Did you see their faces when they left the room? They were unsettled by knowing we didn't really talk much to each other after all._

Before passing the note on, Quatre added, _I could sense their unease and suspicion. Perhaps if they think we're hiding our preferences, they'll ease up on us. Make sure not to mention my sense, as well._

_Hide the extent of our skills,_ was Trowa's short input before he gave the note to Wufei.

_Of course,_ the Chinese wrote, showing the note to Trowa. _We are not fools. Not even Maxwell, since he had enough sense to lie about Yuy's computer abilities._

Upon seeing that, Duo snatched the paper and scribbled, _Hey! I run and hide but never lie – and I didn't! I just said it was common knowledge – and it was, in juvvie. He let them think he was a computer idiot._

Wufei raised an eyebrow at that, but Heero took the note, and when he had finished reading, he wrote over the words. _Enough. We'll discuss it later. This will do for now, get to work._

So they did.

* * *

How's that for a second chapter? re-reads and winces Maybe not so good. I feel it's too technical, but I _had_ to get their contract out first. It's a great show of the boys' unity, as well, and their highly trained minds, with which they can easily separate their minds into two different parts to carry on two different conversations at the same time. The boys' feelings will be developed later on, too, as will the more exciting stuff. And the ending! shudders The ending is terribly abrupt and, I feel, unsatisfying. Oh well, best I could do.

For those who aren't clear, the boys were carrying on a normal conversation while searching the rooms for bugs and video recording devices. They found audio bugs, but not visual, so they wrote to get their _real_ discussion across while keeping up the banter. Cool, ne? grins

And if you think the 'pretending to be boyfriends' bit is cliché, like I did at first, remember that they already feel something for each other and acknowledge it, so it's just a way of beginning their relationship – and it's also for shows of protectiveness! sighs dreamily I love it when one of them gets all protective of the other.

Please review! I was really happy with the reviews Chap One got, since quite a few of them were long and very much encouraging. bows Thanks to all of you who reviewed!

**Next chap:** The boys settle into their new home with a new car and new clothes and new weapons. Life is good, as they take one day to relax... okay, as much time as they have before Heero decides to stop wasting time.

**Important Question:** do you want me to write about the boys slowly getting together and their feelings _growing_, or their feelings already _there_ and _strong_ and it's just a matter of showing/realizing/confirming it?

**-Ashen Skies-  
**_-Damn right I'm good in bed... I can sleep all day.-_


	3. The House

**Disclaimer:** No relation to Gundam Wing. No own Gundam Wing. No relation to anything Gundam. No own anything Gundam. No making profit from this. All of the above is very obvious, otherwise why would I be writing this? Disclaimers are a pain to write.

**Pairings:** 1x2, 3x4, 5xS, past 5xM (she's dead)

**Summary:** Gangs rule the Outlands, and shoot any OZ soldiers that enter their turf. The solution? Use ex-gangers, now OZ prisoners, to infiltrate them. What OZ doesn't know is that these five prisoners have something else in mind…

* * *

**Fighting Fire with Fire **

_Chapter Three: The House _

* * *

Une herself showed them to their new house a day after they signed the contracts. It was a simple affair, a square two-storey cottage with a back and front porch, in the middle of a rectangle of dying garden. It was the last in an entire row of similar houses, in better-kept condition, of course. Beyond their house was a grassy plain stretching a half-mile or so to end at a large forest.

"This is the most remote place we could find that has easy access to both the city and the Outlands," Une informed them. "We're in the Northern outskirts of the city now. More of North-West-North, really. The Outlands are to the West of the city, as you know, and it's open grassland between here and there, with a large forest somewhere in the middle – it's a part of that forest over there."

Their eyes followed her pointing finger to the trees they had seen. "Cool," Duo grinned. "A real forest! Bit far out, though."

"That's because the trees were cleared to make way for the city," Quatre explained. "They cleared more than was necessary, though, thinking that the forest was large enough already, and didn't bother replanting when they were done with the city, only substituting grass for the lost trees."

"A pity," Wufei said quietly.

"Yes, it is."

They went in, leaving their new Jeep and Une's car just inside the fence. On the first floor, there was a small bathroom, a kitchen, and a living room with a television, a three-seater couch and two two-seaters forming a rough square, with a low table in the middle.

"Not bad," Duo commented, slightly surprised. He turned to Une. "After all we'd demanded, we almost expected some dingy apartment somewhere."

Une raised an eyebrow. "If we'd known that was all you were expecting…"

"Is the TV working?"

"Limited basic channels only, though it also tunes in to radio channels."

"Cool."

"We cleared out years' worth of dust for you when we moved all this in. You'll find the kitchen equipped with the basic cooking materials and plastic cutlery, and cleaning supplies are there as well. There is a basement, and only three rooms upstairs, so I'm afraid you'll have to share. There are two rooms with one Queen-sized bed and one room with a single."

The boys saw the knowing glint in Une's eyes and hid satisfied smiles. Hook, line and sinker. "Uh – that's great, lady! We don't mind at all!" Duo assured her, grinning broadly. Une smirked at him. Duo restrained the urge to smirk back. Although none of them had tried sleeping so close to another person before, it was worth it to know that OZ bought into their cover story. And besides, he kinda looked forward to it.

"The rest of your things will arrive soon – all the clothes and so on. The weapons you will pick up from Headquarters tomorrow morning. For now you'll stay in your standard issue clothes. Microwave TV dinners are in the fridge, warm them up yourselves for dinner. Take this time to rest after all the health and physical tests you've had the past day, and I'll expect you in OZ headquarters at ten in the morning. You _do_ know how to get there? Good. Here are your passes. Don't be late."

"See ya tomorrow, lady!" Duo called as she left. When the last sounds of her car had faded into the distance, he turned to grin at the others. "Let's do some recon, huh?"

They explored the house's every nook and cranny, Wufei doing the basement, Heero and Duo the first floor, and Trowa and Quatre the second floor. Five minutes later they reconvened in the living room.

"Windows secured," Quatre reported.

"Only one entrance to the basement," Wufei put in.

"Windows and back door secured," Duo said cheerfully. "Let's go look outside!"

They locked the front door behind them; all the other entrances to the house already secured, and then began walking towards the forest in the distance. When they were in the middle of absolutely nothing but grass, a few minutes' walk from their new house, Quatre stopped. "This is safe," he decided.

"Hn." Heero stopped as well, and the others followed suit. They sat down in a circle without any regards to the ground or the state of their clothing once they sat.

"So, we've got all we wanted, and more – this house isn't half bad!" Duo chortled. "And fully furnished, too. Oh, we disabled one in the living room, one in the kitchen, one in the dining room, one in the hallway."

"One disabled in the basement."

"And we disabled one in each room, none in the bathroom. Actually, I don't think there are any more hidden ones," Quatre said thoughtfully, "but better safe than sorry, I guess. Oh, yes – did anyone put rewiring tools on the list?"

"I did."

"Yeah, Heero's anal about small details like that," Duo grinned. "Do you think we need a security system? No, it's open land all around the house – but we _will_ need an escape route if something ever happens."

"We could dig one to the forest, but it would take weeks, even with the right equipment," Quatre murmured thoughtfully. "And it would be terribly obvious."

"We will talk about that later, once we have scoured the house," Heero interrupted. "For now we will discuss our plans for the Outlands. I want to know the extent of your capabilities. It is unacceptable if we all cannot jog for more than three kilometres without starting to get tired."

"Aw, Hee-chan, you should know that none of us are as weak as we made ourselves seem in those stupid tests," Duo protested.

"I do not know how much your abilities have deteriorated after a period of imprisonment. We tested out around the same levels, and I know mine was a large underestimation of my actual level. We need to know each other's true abilities and specialties in order to work out a feasible plan."

"If you want to know, Yuy, tell us your status first."

Heero spared a glare at Wufei before nodding once, sharply. "I am versed in all aspects, but trained specially for field command and tactics. Most of my abilities were at no more than thirty percent."

Duo whistled. "Wow, looks like you haven't deproved at all!"

"Duo, there's no such word as 'deprove'."

The braided boy waved a hand dismissively. "Doesn't matter, Q, you all know what I meant."

Heero ignored him and nodded at Wufei. "Well, Chang?"

Wufei grimaced. "My specialty is close combat, and most of my abilities were at thirty to forty percent. I still cannot measure up to you, Yuy."

"Same. Pinpoint accuracy and sabotage."

Quatre smiled at Trowa. "Thirty to forty percent as well. Trained extensively in strategy and analysis."

"And I was using roughly up to thirty-five percent of my skills," Duo finished. "Best at sabotage and demolitions, and stealth operations – hey, don't give me that look! It's all pretty impressive, since I overheard the testers talking and it seems that we're just below average OZ soldier levels. That's a bit pathetic, actually."

"Better for us. We will hold practice matches against each other using different scenarios to determine exactly what level each of us is at, and through these matches, pinpoint reactions times, fighting styles, and efficiency with various weapons. Now. Is there any information about yourself that you might have left out in front of OZ? Anything that might affect our productivity as a team – weaknesses, favourable surrounding conditions, preferred fighting arrangements?"

At the others' blank looks, Duo jumped in. "Heero and I should work better together," he offered. "You've come across us; you know we've spent time together. Well, we never talked, just sat with each other, sometimes doing a little sparring if there's space. So I'm more familiar with his movements and reflexes than any of you are, and he's the same with me – right, Heero? Yeah, thought so. Uh, what else… oh, yeah. I don't like close combat – I can handle it, but…"

"You overdo it."

Duo sighed, and smiled ruefully. "Putting it mildly. If you guys researched, I'm sure you've seen what's become of my hand-to-hand opponents."

Quatre turned slightly green, and Trowa patted his knee.

"If we should need to pair up, Duo and I would be a good choice," Heero interrupted firmly, getting back on topic. "I assume you two as well?" He looked at Quatre and Trowa.

The blond nodded. "Trowa and I didn't talk much either, though. Just – enjoyed each other's company, like you did. We didn't end up fighting, so we might not be as familiar with each other's styles as you two are. We just – er, did… non-talking things. But only once or twice," he added hastily, blush spreading.

Duo winked at Quatre, pretending to leer. "Ooh, care to share details?"

Heero smacked Duo on the head. "Behave," he ordered.

Watery violet eyes accompanied by a pout blinked up at him. "Hee-chan…"

The Japanese boy ignored him. "So I assume that you work better alone?" he asked Wufei, who nodded.

"Hee-chan…" Duo tugged on his shirt, and Heero glanced over to see those violet eyes downcast and biting his lip, his other hand tracing invisible patterns in the dirt, and Heero had the sudden feeling that he had been prodding puppies with sharp pointy things. Giving in, he laced his fingers through Duo's and glared at the others, daring them to comment. Quatre just smiled, looking pleased; Wufei rolled his eyes while Trowa blinked serenly. Duo, however, was beaming at him so happily that he had the insane urge to smile back.

He resisted, and continued his previous train of thought. "Alright. We will not make our move until we can at least predict each other's moves in any given situation, and that will only come after the practice matches. We will arrange those later. Right now we will move on to _our_ plans for the Outlands, not Oz's plans. Anyone who _wasn't_ thinking along those lines?"

Four smirks answered his.

"Well then. Quatre? You have the training in strategy and analysis, I believe."

The blond smiled. "First off, I'm sure you've spotted the few loopholes in our contract…"

* * *

I was planning to make this a longer chapter, which included their new clothes, equipment, weapons sort of thing, but then I realized I was getting absolutely nowhere with that second half and it was already a really long time since I last updated. So, I decided to just cut the chapter here and make it into two chapters.

So sorry this is so late, then! And not as interesting as well; there's no action or anything. That comes in the second half. I promise not to make the wait for that half as long as the wait for this; it's half-done already, anyway, so yeah.

Please review!

I would dearly love to thank all those who reviewed before – but then I kinda have no time, and am rushing to update this soon. I'll get back to all your questions and responses in the next update, I swear. Anyone who wants to threaten me with a fish is welcome to do so, I know I deserve it. -grimaces-

**-Ashen Skies-  
**"_Hook, line and sinker."_


	4. Revelations

**Disclaimer:** No relation to Gundam Wing. No own Gundam Wing. No relation to anything Gundam. No own anything Gundam. No making profit from this. All of the above is very obvious, otherwise why would I be writing this? Disclaimers are a pain to write.

**Pairings:** 1x2, 3x4, 5xS, past 5xM (she's dead)

**Summary:** Gangs rule the Outlands, and shoot any OZ soldiers that enter their turf. The solution? Use ex-gangers, now OZ prisoners, to infiltrate them. What OZ doesn't know is that these five prisoners have something else in mind…

* * *

**Fighting Fire with Fire **

_Chapter Four: Revelations_

* * *

Heero and Duo were the first in the kitchen, having finished their morning run by seven thirty and bathed by seven forty-five. They had begun to boil hot water in a kettle for coffee and tea when Trowa and Quatre, who'd woken up later and took slightly longer to run, came in from their own baths.

"He's like clockwork, that one," Quatre commented, glancing out of the window as he wandered over to the kettle. "Out of bed at six fifty-five, doing his katas at seven, finishing at eight on the dot."

"Rest of the Juvvies used to wonder if he was a mod, remember?" Duo snickered, leaning against the counter as he, too, peered out the window to watch Wufei. His long hair wasn't braided, as it was still damp, and he was careful to keep away from the fire. "Then again they wondered the same about the rest of us. Never believed when we said no. You'd think we'd notice if people poked around our genes and modified them. You'd think they'd trust our word about that sort of thing."

Trowa snorted softly.

"Hey, at least _my_ word's trustworthy!" Duo huffed. "I run, I hide –"

"– but I never lie," the other three boys chorused.

"Sure, make fun of the honest man."

The kettle whistled, and Quatre shut the fire off. Nodding in thanks as Duo passed him five cups, he filled them with hot water – three of them slightly less full than the other two – and brought three to the table while Duo took the rest. The fuller ones he kept, while the others took the less full ones.

Heero had collected the tea bags and instant coffee packets, and Trowa the spoons to stir with – Quatre took the two tea packets and unwrapped them, letting them soak in the hot water, while the others tore open their coffee packets and added it to the water. With the powder, the liquid was now at the same height as Quatre's tea. They stirred, Quatre placing the extra cup of tea in front of an empty chair, and then they sat back to let it cool.

Duo had brought his brush down, and he handed it – and his hair tie – to Heero in a silent question. Heero's answer was to gesture Duo to turn slightly so that his back was to Heero, and then he began brushing out the long mass of hair starting from the bottom up.

The sunlight from the window lay in a vague trapezium on the floor, one corner draped over Duo's cloth-clad knee and catching on Heero's elbow every now and then. The air was crisp and cool, the earth still not yet fully heated by the sun. It was quiet, with only the rustling of grass and the call of birds to add to the peace; the sounds and bustle of the city did not reach so far. Sitting there Duo could almost imagine he was in Utopia, or maybe even heaven. With clouds all around and blue sky overhead, and an angel brushing his hair with long deep strokes that made him want to purr, or at least weep with the way Heero was so careful and gentle and not at all like the killers they all were. He closed his eyes to stop the tears.

Quatre's soft smile faltered as he turned away from watching Duo and Heero; he knew exactly how Duo was feeling. "It's been a long time since I've enjoyed air this fresh," he said quietly, watching the sky outside through the window instead. "A morning this quiet, a feeling so peaceful. The last time I sat like this was when I was five, at home, with my sisters. With my father, before… before. I'd woken up early, and went out to the garden. It rained the night before, so the sky was this unreal blue, the air just beginning to warm, the smell of crisp fresh earth so strong. My family joined me one by one, in silence, and we sat and watched the sun rise over the trees." His breath caught, then, and he lowered his eyes. "My heart… aches, to remember."

Trowa shifted his chair silently, settling next to Quatre. He wrapped an arm around the blond, who rested his head on the offered shoulder.

Wufei, freshly showered, entered the kitchen quietly, padding over to sit in the empty chair with the cup of tea in front of it. "So does mine, Quatre," he said softly, staring pensively into his cup. "I remember every morning we had tea before breakfast, in the garden, around a wooden table with the stream running past. We never spoke, but sat there sipping our tea and listening, watching, breathing. Silent observers as the world awoke. I remember, and there's that feeling of… of _home_. Of being held without actually being held. Of being…" he trailed off.

"Loved?"

He allowed himself a small smirk. "I was about to say 'whole', but I guess your romanticized 'loved' will do, Duo."

Heero did the last few inches of braid, and deftly tied it off. "Done," he said, turning back to the table. Taking a sip of his coffee, he added, "Coffee's cooled down just enough, too."

They all moved their chairs back to face the table and indulged in their drinks. Finally Heero finished the last bit of his coffee and set the cup down. "It's eight fifteen," he said. "You know what we put off yesterday. We need to talk about it now."

Duo sighed, but Wufei nodded. Trowa shrugged and Quatre just made a small face. They all finished their drinks, and then fixed Heero with expectant looks.

He raised an eyebrow at them. "Why am I first?"

"Because you are," Duo and Quatre said in unison, and grinned at each other.

But Heero didn't see the humour. He went still, eyes widening with realization, and then said sharply, "02!"

Duo immediately snapped to attention. "Yes sir!" he said automatically.

There was absolute silence in the small kitchen as four pairs of eyes widened simultaneously. Then Quatre ventured, "04."

"03," Trowa murmured.

Wufei frowned. "05."

Heero nodded. "01. The question is how."

"That brings us back to the original topic we're supposed to be discussing now. I daresay it's become all the more important, after that" Quatre said thoughtfully. "Heero?"

"Hn. My code, 01, was given by J. He was a scientist, for lack of a better word, and my mentor. He found me after my… my foster father Odin, an assassin who trained me when I was a child, was killed." He paused, but Duo's hand slipping into his gave him courage to continue. "J told me he could provide me the means to avenge Odin, so I agreed to let him train me. He put me in Zen – he had some connection with them. Connection unknown. He trained me during my time in the gang until I was caught during a botched escape attempt, in which all other Zen members were killed. It was the same gang that killed Odin and my Zen brothers, and I have sworn revenge. Therefore my purpose this time in the Outlands is to kill this gang, the Jesters."

"Jesters!" Wufei, Duo and Trowa hissed at the same time. They looked at each other in surprise.

"Duo," Quatre interjected. "Your turn."

"Ah, right. Okay, I'm 02 because of G. Scientist guy too, really weird hair. Jesters burnt my home down when I was a kid, then G picked me up and told me the same thing – he could train me to get revenge. So I went with him, trained a bit, sneaked out one day and in the few days before he found me I joined Hell's Demons. G let me stay in the gang, surprisingly, on the condition that I devote myself to training with him at the same time. Blah blah, so we were trying to save this kid that the Jesters took into their hold, but they caught us because some _asshole_ of a traitor ratted us out." The pain in his eyes was palpable, and Heero briefly tightened his grip on Duo's hand, which hadn't let go of his. "They all died, the Demons. I was caught by state just as ol' Solo – our boss-bro – died. So yeah, same as Heero – I'm in this to kill the Jesters."

They looked to Trowa. He looked mildly back. "I grew up in a mercenary base – S taught me along with the standard mercenary training. He gave me my code. Mercenaries left me at the scene of some crime. I was caught and blamed. In juvvie I heard that a lot of them ended up joining gangs, mainly Jester. I'm after those mercenaries."

"Jesters!" Wufei burst out, unable to hold it in anymore. "Scientist mentors with a single letter name, codes in ascending order of numbers – this is too much of a coincidence. I myself – " He hesitated, glancing towards Quatre.

The blond shrugged. "Go ahead."

Wufei nodded and took a few meditating breaths, his expression smoothening, a blank calm settling over him. It was the only way he could state the facts without being too affected by the memories. "I have failed grievously twice before. I was a coward the first time; I hid in fear as my first family fought and were killed, and I ran away after that. O found me, and with the promise of revenge became my teacher. He brought me here, where I found another family, the Dragons. I was trained by O during my time with them. The gang was later killed by Jesters, and even though I managed to return the favour for some of them, the rest still owe me a blood debt. It is one of the few ways I can redeem myself."

"This _is_ suspicious," mused Duo.

"Yes," Heero agreed. "Such similar circumstances are questionable indeed."

"Quatre," Trowa murmured.

"Oh, right." Duo grinned at Quatre as they all turned expectantly to the blond. "Your turn. What's _your_ marvelous tale of revenge gonna be?"

"Actually, I'm here for the ride, as Duo might put it."

They stared.

The blond smiled sheepishly. "Well – you guys were all volunteering, and it seemed like an interesting mission, and I was going stir-crazy inside juvvie. So I stepped out when you did, since you guys were the only interesting things there and I would have died of boredom without you all. I don't really have any personal reasons for going into the outlands…" He looked at the amused light in Trowa's eyes and Duo's hanging jaw and Heero and Wufei's indignant disbelief and quickly backpedaled. "Er, well, I suppose I _would_ like to see my fellow Sands again?"

"You came because you were bored!" Duo exclaimed incredulously, jabbing his finger at Quatre empathetically and nearly taking his cup out for good.

"Well, if it helps." Quatre smiled a little half-smile that faded quickly. "My father was a good, kind man, but a few weeks before I killed him he became a tyrant to all his household and family. The last straw was when he somehow found out that I was a member of Sands. I'd kept it a secret; it wasn't that big of a deal, but I was slightly ashamed. Actually, before he changed, I think he'd have accepted it after some deliberation. But in that state, he almost killed me, and my sisters when they tried to stop him, and so in defense I killed him." He bowed his head. "I didn't mean to – but H's training just took over and before I knew it… I was horrified when I came to my senses. I think I threw up. And then… my sisters tried to stop me, but I insisted on turning myself in."

Of course, out of the entire speech, Heero had apparently heard only one word. One letter, even. "H?" he repeated.

"Yes, I too had a 'scientist guy', as Duo puts it. He trained me during my time in the Sands."

They fell into a contemplative silence, turning recent revelations over in their minds. Finally Duo said, "So we have five scientists who've trained us to be the best fighters and survivors anyone could hope to be."

"They trained us alongside gang life. They taught us to fight, but gang life taught us survival and honed our instincts," said Wufei. "Was that done on purpose then?"

"And is it a coincidence that the scientists found us at the exact moments when we needed their words most?" Quatre mused. "For me, H was the solution to my problem of not being able to protect myself. I'd found my first real friends in the Sands, and I needed to be able to fight to stay on in the gang. H came at just the right moment."

"S was the only one who treated me as a human being," Trowa said quietly. "At that time I was willing to do anything he asked me to."

"They approached us during moments when we would definitely accept their proposal to train us, having a driving reason to want to train hard and succeed at it. They're undeniably linked to each other; their names are too similar. We, too, are linked together – is that part of their plan? Of all the good fighters out there, we chose each other. The odds are stacked against such a coincidence. Did they do something to make it easier for us to identify and accept each other, albeit subconsciously?" Duo shook his head. "Damn, but the plots that come to mind are endless."

"Come to think of it – our familiarity with each other _is_ unusual," Quatre admitted slowly. "None of us are the trusting sort, but that we accepted each other so easily… and we found nothing unusual about _that_, either."

"They did something." Heero spoke at last, and they turned to look at him. His lips were pressed together, and there was a cold anger in his eyes. "That means they deceived us, lied to us. They might even have something to do… with the circumstances we found ourselves in."

There was a stunned silence.

Then Quatre breathed, "My father… they did something to my father?"

"My family. My gang… _Solo_." Shinigami was simmering just beneath the surface as Duo shook his head slowly. "No."

"It is a possibility. It would have been too convenient for them, otherwise."

"Heero's right," Wufei said grimly.

Duo's lips drew back in a snarl. "If they're responsible…"

He did not need to finish his sentence; the looks on the others' faces completed it for him. Abruptly he stood, and stalked out of the kitchen.

"Duo?" Quatre called after him.

"If they're still alive, most likely they're in the Outlands." Duo's voice was cold as it floated back to kitchen. "The faster we cement this deal with OZ, the better the chance of finding them. Let's go."

They went.

* * *

Interesting things happen next chap as the boys meet with OZ once again – and get their weapons and stuff. -grins-

Been waiting long? Sorry!

Thanks to all the reviewers for the last chap – hope you liked this one. Though it was more to establish the sinister plots behind things, than to further the story.

**Ashen Skies  
**"_He closed his eyes to stop the tears."_


	5. Back In Action

**Disclaimer:** No relation to Gundam Wing. No own Gundam Wing. No relation to anything Gundam. No own anything Gundam. No making profit from this. All of the above is very obvious, otherwise why would I be writing this? Disclaimers are a pain to write.

**Pairings:** 1x2, 3x4, 5xS, past 5xM (she's dead)

**Summary:** Gangs rule the Outlands, and shoot any OZ soldiers that enter their turf. The solution? Use ex-gangers, now OZ prisoners, to infiltrate them. What OZ doesn't know is that these five prisoners have something else in mind…

* * *

**Fighting Fire with Fire **

_Chapter Five: Back in Action_

* * *

The atmosphere in the office was tense. For once all the cubicles in the dull grey room were full; some even had more than the one usual occupant. All were tense, and every few seconds, almost unconsciously, heads turned to look over their cubicle walls or their shoulders at the entrance to the room. The doorway gaped open, and empty. 

"They're taking such a long time," someone hissed.

"Commander's going to bite their heads off."

"Nah, they're the higher-ups' pets right now, they can spend as much time as they want primping and as long as they have any stupid excuse I bet they'll get off scot-free," came a bitter retort.

"I heard all of them're _fags_," another informed the room at large.

"Really? How'd they survive then, on the streets…"

"Maybe that's why they're taking so long."

"Hah, I wouldn't be surprised, street whores that they are –"

"Uh, Jake –"

"– I bet they rent out at fifty, maybe less –"

"Jake!"

Too late, the unfortunate Jake heard the panicked warning for what it was. He had an instant to notice the dark presences at his back before he was hauled bodily out of his seat and spun harshly around to meet the coldest, most empty blue eyes he'd ever seen. Some primal part of him, the part that had huddled around tiny fires and stared out into the darkness where hungry eyes watched him back, screamed silently in fear, but some other suicidal part of him found the courage to say, albeit waveringly, "What?"

He was shoved back onto his desk, the edge of the table pressing painfully into his spine, and the blue-eyed Japanese teen leaned in close. "Would you care to repeat that?" he murmured, and his tone was almost gentle.

Jake, painfully aware that the entire office was riveted to the drama playing out before their eyes, chose pride over the screaming little voice in the back of his head. "You – you're all – wh–whores," he managed.

A cold little smile curved the boy's lips. "Wrong answer."

Jake screamed as his finger was bent slowly, agonizingly back. "There's a trick to this," came the conversationally comment. "Too fast, and it'll break; too slow, and it won't hurt as much. I've had – practice."

He couldn't answer; his vision was turning black as the hand against his throat pressed in. He made a little choking sound. Over the roaring in his ears he heard, faintly, someone say, "Let go, Heero. He's mine."

The hands were blessedly gone in the next moment, and he fell gasping for breath onto his knees. His finger hurt like hell, but it was unbroken; his throat felt even worse, but it wasn't permanent damage, from what he could tell. When his vision cleared, it was to reveal beautiful purple eyes in a elfin face before of him. He stared, and wondered if the bastard had killed him and he was in heaven.

"Yes," a soft voice whispered in answer, and his eyes closed as fingers caressed his cheek, down to his neck, onto his chest. Hair brushed against his face, and he blindly reached out to run his hands down the angel's body. Jake's fogged mind registered that the body felt different from the usual female ones, but he was too far gone to care as the hand on him traveled lower, lower, as did his own hands… and then the warm body was abruptly gone.

He opened his eyes.

From the corner of his eyes he could see, could hear his colleagues whispering amongst themselves, giving him shocked looks. What caught his attention, though, and made him go cold, was the purple-eyed figure in front of him.

The purple-eyed, decidedly male figure.

He whimpered a little.

* * *

Duo resisted the urge to roll his eyes – he was feeling good right now; he had his weapons, his clothes, and it he was terrorizing someone. He didn't want to ruin the effect. The man was _such_ an idiot, though. He smiled sweetly at – Jake, was it? It was the smile that had heralded many a death, in the dark alleys of the gang-ridden streets of the past. The man looked like he was about to pass out. 

"Sorry," he said, almost purring, "But I don't let strangers like you touch me, not for any amount of money. I belong to Heero, and Heero alone. As for the _fag_ comment…"

He turned and smiled at Heero, knowing that the Japanese teen knew what he was trying to do. Heero smirked back at him, and held out a hand – he took it, and was yanked towards Heero's body. He hummed in pleasure as strong arms wrapped around his waist, one hand slipping into his low-slung, body-hugging jeans to caress the skin. In return Duo wrapped his arms around Heero's neck, feeling his shirt ride up. He nuzzled Heero, whose other hand raised a little to rub circles into the skin of his lower back.

"Mine," he heard Heero growl a little, and he raised his face to give him a light kiss. He turned in Heero's arms, letting his own arms rest on Heero's, fingers intertwining. He gave Jake a cold smile. "We like who we are," he told the man. "Do you?" He looked pointedly at the bulge in Jake's pants.

Hearing the level of whispering around them spike sharply, he hid a satisfied smile. This kind of revenge was _much_ more rewarding than mere physical pain. He could sense the satisfied delight of all four of his friends behind him – they were finally back in action, and off to a great start.

They left the man huddled on the floor, and went to find the Captain.

* * *

They were an amazing sight, Une had to admit as the five of them swept into her office. Gone were the juvvie clothes, and along with them the bad boy image – now they radiated a dark danger, and a quiet confidence. They weren't just street rats; they were the absolute rulers of the streets. She could see why they'd insisted on getting the clothes just right – it did make a lot of difference. 

Heero wore a dark green tank top, and black jeans that hugged his lean legs. He wore black leather boots underneath them. His knee-length coat, trimmed with dark silver and dark blue-black threads, was made of supple leather; it had a lot of buckles and straps that looked complicated, but were easy to remove in a hurry. She couldn't see it, but she knew that there was a slit at the back, starting from the top of his thighs down to the hem, for ease of movement. All of the boys' coats had it.

There was also a design on the back – a pair of intricately patterned angel wings, which rose from between his shoulder blades to fall gracefully down the back in a parody of a heart-shape, with every tiny feather clearly defined in silver thread. The words 'Shinigami's Wing', in very tiny matte blue-black thread that was almost invisible, was stitched in the small space between the origin of the two wings, one word on top of the other. She was willing to bet that those had been recent additions, namely by one Duo Maxwell.

Speaking of Duo, he wore the same flexible figure-hugging jeans as Heero, black as well, only _his_ rode low on his hips in a very inviting manner, and had slits that rose from the hems to just below mid-calf on the outside – for his rather more chunky black boots, Une surmised. He wore a sleeveless red turtleneck with the shoulders sloping inwards towards his neck, revealing deceptively lightly muscled shoulders; he also had fingerless biker gloves on.

His coat had been slung over his shoulders; now he shook it out with a flourish and slid it on. It was longer than Heero's, calf-length instead of knee-length – to hide the longer daggers he used, no doubt – and it was black as well, with a similar buckle-and-strap design. A dark blood red Japanese _shi_ for 'death' was sewn just below his shoulder on the right, on the upper arm.

Buckles to close the coat ran from mid-thigh to mid-chest; even unbuckled the weapons could not be seen. That was an important factor in all their designs, she knew, since she'd asked – to make sure the weapons stayed out of view of the innocents and passer-bys. The entire reason they wore coats was to conceal their weapons from the normal public; coats and other unusual outfits were common enough in the new-age town but weapons still made people wary.

Trowa's outfit wasn't as flashy; in fact, compared to Duo's and Heero's it was rather plain. He wore a black turtleneck and a pair of dark grey, loose slacks that allowed free movement, with soft black boots under them. He'd asked for black leather gloves, and she could see them tucked into a pocket of his coat. His trench coat was a dull black, unlike the leather of Heero's and Duo's, and came down to mid-thigh.

Quatre's colours could be considered lively compared to the previous three. He had on earth-brown boots, and a golden brown, mid-thigh trench coat similar to Trowa's, only with more pockets. Underneath he wore dark grey slacks, and a crisp, white collared shirt.

Wufei was an absolute contrast to the rest. He had on a white trench coat with, Une remembered, a black dragon sewn on the back, an abstract design that nevertheless managed to convey the essence of a dragon's awe without being contrived. There were small dragons intertwined in patterns on the ends of the sleeves and the bottom of his knee-length coat. Beneath that he wore a black tank top tucked into white slacks, over simple black leather boots.

She realized that she had been staring for a few seconds too long when Duo flashed her a grin. "Like what you see, Captain?" he said cheerfully, doing a little spin. "Do look a little longer, I don't mind."

Une cleared her throat and glared at him. "You'll do," she said curtly. "I take it that you're satisfied with your weapons and clothing?"

Duo nodded happily. "Your smiths surprised us; the sheaths fit us perfectly and the weapons fit the sheaths perfectly, and the weapons themselves are perfect. The clothes are perfect, the stitching is perfect…"

The Captain held up a hand. "I get the picture," she said dryly. "I'm glad you approve."

Her sarcasm was entirely ignored. "Oh, by the way, you employ assholes, did you know?" Duo said brightly. "We helped you discipline him, but we can't always be here, you know." He waggled an admonishing finger at her. "We're good, but not that good."

Une didn't know whether to laugh or to yell. She settled for changing the subject altogether. "The smiths, when they made your weapons, were curious as to how you used them," she said abruptly. "I myself admit to some interest, as did Commander Treize. Would you mind showing us how you fight?"

The five of them exchanged looks. "Now?" Duo said, raising an eyebrow.

She nodded.

Again, a silent conversation went on. Then Duo grinned, and turned to Une. "Okay, we'll do it," he announced. "It'll be good to get some practice."

Une smiled in anticipation. The weapons the boys had asked for had been very unusual, and all those who had seen it had had their interests sparked. It would be an interesting fight indeed.

She rose from behind her desk, and went to the door. She opened it.

There were a few high-pitched shrieks, and Une jumped back and stared as a few girls lost their balance and fell onto the floor. They quickly scrambled up again, blushing red. The Captain glared at them, and then at the crowd of women behind them, all looking shamefaced – at the edge of the crowd, a few were edging away, trying to look innocent.

"What is the meaning of this?" she demanded.

Duo popped up from behind her. "What's the matter, Captain – oh. Hello there!" he greeted the crowd, giving them a little wave and a cheeky smile. Several of them swooned, and there was more than one lovesick sigh. As the rest of the boys came to the door, there were a few whimpers.

Une groaned.

* * *

It must be the chocolate. Chocolate makes you happy, because it releases endorphins in your bloodstream or something. Whatever it is, I don't feel particularly happy right now, but all the fics I'm working on, be it a drama fic or an angst fic – they're all turning humorous! Gah. 

But at least I'm working on them. (:

I know this chapter took a long time to come – but I have rediscovered my muse! Moo ha ha ha. Hope you enjoyed? It's just a filler chapter, sorry; the next one will have the plot picking up again. Just letting you know I'm not dead.

**Next Chap:** It's the next day, and the Heero and Duo wake up, cuddle, and the whole happy five of them go to the Outlands. Come on, say it with me: _finally_.

**Ashen Skies  
**"_We like who we are. Do you?"_


End file.
